


His Last Chance

by nymerias



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 3x05, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, I'm here to make the scene more painful than it already was, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymerias/pseuds/nymerias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shot. My imaginings of an alternate version of the "I can be your family" scence.</p><p>"She stares at him, wordlessly, for a while, until she snaps and her glare turns ice cold. She turns away again and he knows she hates him. But as much as he needs to let her hate him, he can’t. He can’t let her think he doesn’t want her. He can’t because it would hurt him as much as it’s hurting her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Last Chance

"You don't have to do this." 

She doesn’t understand. He does have to do this. For once, he has to think of himself. He can’t afford to get heartbroken by this little girl. He remembers her aggression when she tried to kill the Hound. He remembers her screaming at Gendry to let her go when he had held onto her. He remembers her screaming at the Hound to burn in hell. He couldn’t stand seeing her in anguish and now he is about to cause the pain himself. 

“I want to.” He lies, “They need good men.” 

"Robb needs good men too!" She shouts, "We're leaving tomorrow and then you–" 

"What? Serve him?” He interrupts, "I served Master Mott at King's Landing and he sold me to the Watch. I served Tywin Lannister at Harrenhal wondering everyday if I'd get tortured or killed. I'm done serving." 

It’s true, he’s done serving, but it’s not the entire reason he’s leaving. 

"You just said you were serving Lord Beric." She pleads and his stomach tightens. 

Gendry can see the tears in her eyes. He can see that she’s trying her hardest not to let them fall. He prays that she doesn’t let them fall; if she cried, he would break. He takes a deep breath. 

“He may be their leader but they chose him.” He says, reciting the lines that he had practiced in his head countless times in preparation for this conversation. “These men are brothers. They're a family." He says. _Please understand._ But she doesn’t, of course she doesn’t, and she turns away. 

“I’ve never had a family.” He calls out and Arya spins around and looks him in the eye. 

“I can be your family.” She vows. And, oh, that’s not fair at all. Her tears are threatening to spill and her voice quivers with sincerity and Gendry hates himself.  

It doesn’t work that way. Gendry knows his place and there is no place for a bastard smith with a highborn lady. Joining the Brotherhood, he could make a name for himself. He could be good enough for Arya’s pack… for Arya’s _world_. But for now, Gendry is a bastard and she is a lady. They could never be a family. She has to know this. If she hates him for it, it’s for the best. It’s better that she hates him. He offers her a sad smile. 

“You wouldn’t be my family. You’d be my lady.” _Please understand._  

She stares at him, wordlessly, for a while, until she snaps and her glare turns ice cold. She turns away again and he knows she hates him. But as much as he needs to let her hate him, he can’t. He can’t let her think he doesn’t want her. He can’t because it would hurt him as much as it’s hurting her. 

She’s leaving but before she can go any further, Gendry gets up and grabs her arm. She whips around and Gendry thinks he’s never seen her so vulnerable before. She’s looking up at him and the tears are still there, swimming in her eyes. He has to do it. He has to do it because she may never speak to him again, he may never see her again. This is his last chance. 

She seems to have the same idea. 

No one made the first move; their lips crash at the same time. The kiss isn’t sweet and it’s not romantic. It’s not delicate and it’s not joyful. It’s sad. It’s desperate because they may never get to do this again. She lets him slide his tongue into her mouth and he can almost taste the betrayal she must feel. She wounds her arms around his neck and he her waist, getting as close as possible. He needs to be close to her. He needs it with a desperation that he’s never felt before in his life. Before Arya, he had no one he cared for. He was lonely, but mostly content with life. Now he’ll be lonely again, he’ll have the Brotherhood, but he’ll still be lonely. She’s whimpering. And that’s when he knows that she has finally let the tears fall. And he’s crying too, maybe he was already broken. The kiss, it’s not a beginning. The kiss is the finality of their friendship. It’s the finality of what could have never been, Arya and Gendry being a family. 

They break apart and her tears are streaming freely down her face, her hair is disheveled and her lips are red and swollen. Her eyes search his, trying to provoke something out of him. But he has nothing to say. _Please understand._ She runs away, leaving him alone, and Gendry hates himself.


End file.
